


On Winners and Losers

by TricksyBird



Category: DuckTales
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksyBird/pseuds/TricksyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flintheart Glomgold says goodbye to an old rival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Winners and Losers

Usually it was considered bad form to be late to funerals, but in this special case Flintheart Glomgold felt justified. He had a feeling that his attendance might be ill-received, anyway. So it wasn't until evening fell and the last mourners had long since left the graveyard, that the old duck stepped out of his limousine and walked up to the fresh grave. What little sunlight remained at this hour was kept away by a heavy white fog that, perhaps appropriately, lent the scenery a certain otherworldly aspect.

There wasn't a stone yet. That would have to wait until the ground settled in, but even so the grave was impossible to miss. Veritable mountains of flowers and wreaths were arranged there, vying for attention on behalf of their donors – all of them discreetly mentioned on silken ribbons. Glomgold gave a wry smile. The resident would probably turn in his grave at such extravagance – costly extravagance at that. His smile froze when he noticed the little wreath of evergreen that took the foremost spot, right next to a posy of daisies that looked like it had been handpicked by a little girl. "So they saw you off properly, eh?" he asked the heap of flowers quietly, briefly wondering what kind of flowers he would receive at his own funeral but just as quickly brushing the thought aside.

"Anyway, I just came by to congratulate you," he said and leaned heavily on his cane. "Richest duck in the world, until the very end. Looks like you won for good."

The news of McDuck's death had been entirely unexpected – or as unexpected as it could be, at their age. He had nodded at his aide when he had told him and sent him away. Then, alone in the privacy of his office, for the first time in decades, Flintheart Glomgold had cried.

In a way his wish had come true. He was the richest duck in the world now, or would be, in a matter of weeks. He hadn't yet found out who would inherit the other duck's fortune, what arrangements the old skinflint had made in his testament, but whoever it was, it was no Scrooge McDuck. Already the stocks of his companies were falling, and while whoever inherited them found his footing, pulling ahead of them would be easy.

Glomgold sighed. What he had realized in the dark hours after learning about his rival's demise was that it didn't matter to take the title of number one. It mattered to _take it from McDuck_, and that prize was forever out of his reach now. The race was over.

"So that's it, isn't it?" he asked the grave after a long while. "Number two forever." There was no answer, of course, and finally, shivering at the emptiness that he felt in his chest, Glomgold returned to the waiting limousine.


End file.
